Ella S.
Well-Known Member
Really? 2? The fact that you think intuition can be relied upon to generate correct answers to math problems suggests to me that you are at least around 4 or 5. Note that even 10 only puts intuitions on par with the senses. I think even 10 is putting too much stock in intuitions, that's why I didn't bother making 10 mean "intuition is more reliable than our senses"... because that's an absurd position.
The reason I put myself at 5 is that I think our intuitions are reliable in many arenas, but I also acknowledge the limits of intuitions at precisely determining the truth. They are more like a compass than a map.
I don't recognize that intuition is a reliable means of generating the correct answers to math problems. As I said, these intuitions are ideally double-checked by our analytical minds. I only relied on intuition due to the limitations of my circumstances. I think this is something that should be avoided whenever possible.
I view intuition as almost completely unreliable.
A lot of commited hedonists do exactly as you recommend. They say the thought experiment is misleading. They would argue something like, the true thought experiment should be a choice between a pleasure machine and a suffering machine. A committed hedonist would say that living a normal life might make us happier than the pleasure machine... because a pleasure machine (despite its name) fails to produce many things that are in fact required for pleasure and happiness. (For instance, life outside of the machine provides variety in experience, or periods of displeasure that make pleasure all the more enjoyable when it occurs-- remember, hedonists think pain that leads to greater overall happiness is morally justified).
Also, I wouldn't call the thought experiment a "refutation of hedonism." It is merely a challenge to the idea that pleasure is the sole good. If the idea of pleasure being the sole good becomes dubious, then hedonism itself is dubious. It hardly counts as a refutation of hedonism if this is the case. I happen to see value in the underlying idea of the thought experiment. It points to a potential problem with hedonism that deserves investigation, or at the very least causes hedonists to have to explain themselves further. But I think hedonism survives such scrutiny and remains a viable theory. All of it leads to a more precise explanation. Even if hedonism is true, challenges like this get us closer to understanding WHY it is true.
Look at black hole singularities which suggest that Einsteins theories are problematic or incomplete. They don't stand as a refutation of Einstein, but they do indicate that there is a problem that needs to be worked out. All this gets us closer to a better description of the physical world.
This perspective makes even less sense to me. At least if the argument was, "This consequence feels wrong, therefore your moral axioms are false" it makes some sense as a form of rhetorical technique.
Instead, you're saying that they demonstrate that hedonism is problematic or incomplete, which I don't understand how such a thought experiment does this at all. To me, the most it does is provide an emotionally persuasive point against committing to hedonism. Which I think is exactly what it's meant to do, because I think it's clear that we don't derive values from reality but we assign them ourselves. Ethical arguments like this are pragmatic, not logical.
I don't see how they can be treated as anything else, as you say they can be here. Perhaps they can, but I have to ask why this thought experiment shows that hedonism might be incomplete. I don't see the connection there.
So you find ethics infuriating? Good.
That means you care about the truth of the matter... an invaluable quality in a philosopher. We've all seen folks who argue something one way or the other on these forums, not because they care about the truth of the matter, but because such an item supports their chosen religious or political affiliations. That's not good philosophy.
I like the old Socratic adage: "The only thing I know is that I know nothing."
Of course, we shouldn't assume absolute ignorance on our part. It would be dumb to start every debate with a tabula rasa... or zero assumptions whatsoever. But it would be even worse to be so satisfied with our own conclusions that we repel all challenges.
Of course, philosophers set out to find satisfying conclusions to ethical problems, and some issues are genuinely resolved as a result of such investigations. But more often than not, philosophers find themselves in a state of profound ignorance and profound dissatisfaction.
But what's worse? Realizing that you are in a profound state of ignorance? Or being in an even more profound state of ignorance that you think you already have the answer before conducting the investigation? I would rather be in the former category over the latter. But realizing how difficult the problem is is incredibly dissatisfying.
The reason Plato is one of the greatest philosophers ever to have lived is not because his theories are so strong. In fact, many of his theories are quite dubious. But what Plato teaches us is that when we reach that state of utter dissatisfaction, we are on the right track. That is where the real philosophy begins, so to speak. Look at Meno. In Meno, we set out to determine whether virtue can be taught. Socrates makes some headway in showing what the answer might be, especially with his demonstration of the slave boy learning some geometry. But what mostly happens through the course of the book is that we are presented with several deep and bothersome problems. Rather than offering a nice, tidy solution to each of these issues, Plato instead opts to leave his readers in a state of profound dissatisfaction over them at the end of the book. Oftentimes, the reader finishes Meno with less confidence in what they can determine about virtue than when they started. Many of Plato's early works end in this fashion. And Plato did that deliberately. That's the genius of Plato, and that's why his early works are still taught today in many introductory philosophy courses. Some philosophical issues require a lot of argument to even begin to make sense of them
It is much the same when we try to resolve ethical issues. Insofar as well-argued hedonism still has problems shows that we have learned enough about hedonism (and its strengths) to also recognize it has important weakness and problems as an ethical theory.
The reason you are "infuriated" or dissatisfied is that you are a good philosopher.
Had you done nothing but nod your head and express satisfaction with my arguments during our discourse, I would hardly have reason to clarify or support my positions. Neither of us would have reason to dig deep and present stronger arguments, and as a result, little of substance would have been said in the process. I'm incredibly grateful for your disagreements and challenges. They are of a high quality. I've produced better arguments because of your criticisms. And, hopefully, this goes in the other direction too.
Absolutely. I've never found someone who was able to defend moral realism as well as you have here, which is also frustrating because I don't just want to assume that I'm right about moral nihilism in the absence of a decent argument against it.
Most people I talk to on the subject just think it's "obvious" that their particular, idiosyncratic moral preferences are clearly right. A lot of Humanists, for instance, take concepts like human rights or welfarist consequentialism as gospel. They can't even comprehend the notion that their understanding of "good" or "bad" might be wrong, and get righteous indignation at anyone who might suggest otherwise.
I find that this happens even among people I know who hold degrees in philosophy, which surprises me. I would think that a proper education in philosophy would prevent them from making what seems to me to be quite elementary mistakes, on par with assuming the existence of God in the so-called reformed epistemology used by apologists and theologians.
I don't understand why people who call themselves skeptics and critical thinkers so often fall into the same exact myths used by the religious, just naturalized. They should know better. So maybe they do know better and I'm just missing something about their arguments, but that's also what I thought about Catholic doctrine before I deconverted from Catholicism. It seems that the best arguments for a position are often popular enough that you will hear them quite shortly after looking into the subject.
You have breathed more energy into arguments that I thought fell completely flat on their face, perhaps explaining them in a way that I can understand them more.
PS: I'm STILL working on a reply to your criticism of the article. The reason why is that I am learning exactly WHY self-motivation was brought into the argument in the first place. As luck would have it, my old ethics textbook has a few pages devoted to it. (I'm also reading online sources.) It has to do with an argument formulated by Hume called the Moral Motivation Argument. (I have quoted the argument below if you desire to give it some consideration. It is an error theorist argument, so I thought you may be interested in reading it.)
1. Moral judgments are able, all by themselves, to motivate those who make them.
2. Beliefs are never able, all by themselves, to motivate those who hold them.
3. Therefore, moral judgments are not beliefs.
4. If moral judgments are not beliefs, they can't be true.
5. Therefore, moral judgments can't be true.
(quoted from The Fundamentals of Ethics by Russ Shafer-Landau)
This reminds me a bit of Socratic intellectualism, where it's speculated that everyone was designed by God to wish to do the right thing, and so knowing more about the world around us helps us be more moral in the sense that it lets us pursue the right thing more efficiently.
I honestly find this approach to be terribly naive. I don't think these thinkers had access to the internet or the psychological studies we have now, with all of the needlessly sadistic cruelty made more plain. Some people are genuinely malevolent in the very core of their being. It might be difficult for more sensible people to understand this, even to the point of trying to rationalize these actions for the perpetrators, but I think we know now that it isn't the case that everyone is motivated to do good.
Hume's argument here, to his credit, does not make the same lofty generalization. He just says that moral judgments are able to motivate those who make them by themselves. This is also something I think moral psychology has disproven, though. It's not that moral judgments themselves motivate us, but that we moralize various drives we already have, which everyone has to a different degree. Some of us have our prosocial drives overshadowed by impulsive aggression, which we see in sociopaths, and oddly enough sociopaths frequently moralize their antisocial acts.
I think that both the moralization sociopaths have for their antisocial behavior and the fact that people tend to hold their own moral preferences as "obvious" are facts better explained by morality being something individuals assign than something real or objective.